


one day we'll be whole again

by harajukucrepes



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Doyoung is just a mention, Johnny is a cameo, M/M, Mark is also a cameo, Non-Linear Narrative, Original wlw characters - Freeform, Rather Explicit Sex, Stream of Consciousness, Trigger warnings for allusions to awful things that happen in music industry, Trigger warnings for allusions to bullying, a non-explicit blowjob, also trigger warning for alcohol use, and also bottom!yuta, bottom!taeyong, the language in here is pretty vulgar, this is a pretty dark fic in general, trigger warning for a mention of xenophobia, trigger warning for indulgences in casual sex, trigger warning for mentions of smoking and recreational drugs, trigger warnings also for allusions to sexual promiscuity, trigger warnings for allusions to homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:22:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24241996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harajukucrepes/pseuds/harajukucrepes
Summary: When things used to be simple, Yuta would pledge the sky for him.*or, yutae rock band au
Relationships: Lee Taeyong/Nakamoto Yuta
Comments: 12
Kudos: 42





	one day we'll be whole again

**Author's Note:**

> -disclaimer: my author appeal is Yuta In A Rockband, so basically i'll be writing at least like ten different fics with this premise and various Yu-pairings until it happens in reality  
> \- this was written as a distraction from an on-going yujae work for the sole purpose of getting it out asap  
> \- thank you in advance for reading and feel free to let me know of any mistakes

*

one day we’ll be whole again

*

  
  
  
  
  


When things used to be simple, Yuta would pledge the sky for him. 

We’ll take over the moon and sit among the stars, he said, and we’ll shine brighter than the brightest star in the galaxy. 

Taeyong had believed him, he really did. 

How could he not—Yuta was hard to deny and Taeyong was nothing but a boy with a weak will. 

  
  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  
  


The man who called himself the Miracle Producer was an inhumanly ugly, stocky man with no neck and a belly so egregiously round that made Taeyong think of hot air balloons and Yuta really, really, _really_ despised him. 

There was so much disgust in his face that Taeyong had to hold his sleeves and murmur to remind him that they were here for a reason and the reason was that they needed to impress him—yes, him the no-neck guy, the lousy breath guy, the humpty-dumpty guy. He’s the boss, Taeyong told him. He’s the guy in charge, he’s the one with the money, he’s among the powers-to-be. Yuta, he whispers, squeezing his hand. Let’s spit this out, let’s do this, let’s get this over and done with. 

Ew, Yuta cringed, right before he turned into a superstar in time for the audition to start. 

Then they failed and Yuta was _livid_. 

He ranted with the speed of a bullet train in Kansai-ben—a sure sign that he had momentarily allowed himself a break from courtesy—on their way out of the audition studio to the vending machine ramen stand and in spite of his growing familiarity with the accent, the only thing he got out of Yuta’s seeming endless diatribe was that they were all pretty much screwed. Yuta was screwed because Taeyong the guitarist was screwed because their drummer Rinko was screwed because their keyboardist Sei was screwed and it was all because the whole thing was a bad idea from the start till the end. 

They screwed up so badly, it was enough to make Yuta declare that he would rather pack his bags back to Osaka and never sing again if that stupid stump they called Miracle Producer ever dare to make comments about his butt again. 

Never. Fucking. Again. 

Taeyong nodded, because what other choice he had but to agree. Rinko and Sei looked like they would rather have the no-neck producer talk about Yuta’s butt if he wanted to as long as he was willing to sign them to his label and allow them to start releasing music but Taeyong believed that they would be able to balance out artistic freedom with moral integrity. 

He knew they could, because it was something that Yuta once said to him. 

  
  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  
  


The first time they talked to each other, Yuta had a bloody gash across his knee and Taeyong had his head drowned under the faucet behind the gym court. 

You didn’t see anything, Yuta glared before Taeyong could even speak. 

Taeyong looked away. The running water gave them a delusion of privacy. 

  
  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  
  


Yuta wouldn’t pick up the phone, Sei says. 

Rinko throws her cigarette into the bin and curses out loud. 

Fuck him, she spits. Fuck him and his pride. Fuck him and his stupid ass grudge. Fuck him and his dumb ass ego. 

Fuck him. 

Taeyong’s flight leaves in 45 minutes. 

  
  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  
  


You’re the only one I could ever trust, Yuta once said to Taeyong in the midst of a drunken stupor. 

  
  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  
  


The second music producer who agreed to meet them was a beautiful woman in her 30s and she wore a neatly-ironed blazer and a pair of impeccable suit pants. Rinko rolled her eyes, because what does this corporate shill even know about rock music. 

The woman heard her comments and snickered out loud before announcing that they only had 5 minutes to impress her. 

  
  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  
  


The second time they talked to each other, Yuta dragged a chair next to Taeyong’s desk and sat in front of him. 

I don’t feel like eating with anyone else, he said. And you seem to be alone. 

That wasn’t exactly true, but later that day, Taeyong was told by the girl who sat behind him that Yuta was trying to avoid getting a confession note from a girl next door. 

  
  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  
  


When things used to be easy, Taeyong muses, he was used as Sei and Rinko’s voluntary cover because Rinko’s father was a pastor and Rinko had once said that her father would rather have her marry into poverty than marry a woman. Sei still hates his guts. 

They came to Taeyong because they knew that Taeyong was convenient: he was foreign, he was lonely and he needed a friend or two. We’ll have you hang out with us and nobody would touch you because we are the dirty lesbians and Sei has a black belt in karate. 

Most conveniently, they noted, Taeyong was in love with a boy. 

  
  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  
  


Don’t you just love the way cigarettes would cause cancer, Yuta said, pushing his tongue inside Taeyong’s mouth. It’s like pleasure is inherently poisonous. 

What would you do without nicotine, Taeyong asked, hypothetically. 

Yuta threw his head back and sighed dreamily. 

Die, I suppose, he said, like words were weightless. 

  
  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  
  


The third time they talked to each other, Taeyong asked about the gash on his knee and what caused it. 

Promise you won’t tell? 

Yes. 

I fell during practice. Soccer. 

Taeyong thought his chest fell a little. 

Were you expecting it to be a fight or something. 

Somewhat, Taeyong said after he finished chewing the seaweed salad. 

  
  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  
  


The woman in the neat suit told them that they could call her Watanabe and she said that she couldn’t sign them yet, but if they could impress her boss in this club in Ginza that weekend, they would be welcomed to their label. 

Just so you know, Watanabe added, the rumours have it that Miracle Producer really wanted to grab you guys. 

For the first time in forever, Taeyong saw Yuta’s eyes burn with competitive ecstasy. 

  
  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  
  


The airport announcer makes a last call to passengers of Taeyong’s flight, because the plane will be departing in 30 minutes. 

Sei and Rinko hug him tight and Taeyong reciprocates. 

  
  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  
  


Yuta had a type, Taeyong noticed, because he liked them tall and baby-faced and innocent-looking—yet it was always the tough, muscular ones whose dicks he would let inside him. He claimed that they emasculated him with the way they would rip him apart whenever they came. 

But it hurts, doesn’t it, Taeyong asked, staring at the bruises on his thighs, when they do that to you. 

Of course it does, Yuta sighed as a whiff of coke formed a chalk-coloured mist in front of him. It fucking does. But the pain feels so fucking good. 

It still hurts, Taeyong said. 

I told you, Yuta exhaled and rose up to push Taeyong to the bed. It feels _really_ good. 

Their eyes were locked in a sharply confrontational gaze before Yuta unbuttoned Taeyong and showered his body with wet kisses and Taeyong could only stroke Yuta’s back as he gave him the longest blowjob ever, taking his time to arouse him as though he was trying to spite him for shaming his kinks and Taeyong let himself be pampered by this act of ironic generosity, because Yuta knew exactly what Taeyong wanted and this was the only way he could make it happen and sometimes Taeyong wondered how many times they would do this over and over before the balance would tip to one side and they both fall into the zone of definitive enmity. 

Yuta let go of him when he came and his strange, determined expression told Taeyong that they only had a few more chances with each other. 

  
  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  
  


Watanabe said it from the start that the label considered 5 hit singles a decisive return of investment and that indeed, was when she approached Taeyong and told him that their partner record label in Los Angeles had taken interest in them and would like to start some collaborative efforts with Taeyong as main feature. 

It’s not just the guitar, she said, it was also the overall music you produce. The hip-hop and rap you infused into the music. They would like you to produce for their artists. 

Plus the fashion—but the music first, mostly. 

What about Yuta, he had asked. 

Watanabe smiled and said that she, too, had some plans for him. And Sei and Rinko. 

I have plans for all of you in Stereophobes, she committed. Don’t you worry. 

  
  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  
  


The fourth time they talked to each other, Yuta wanted Taeyong to tell him the reason why he was trying to drown himself with faucet water behind the gym when they first met. 

Taeyong hesitated, then realised that his chance had finally come. 

Unlike you, he revealed, I was in an actual fight.

Yuta obviously didn’t find his exaggerated bravado particularly amusing. 

  
  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  
  


The cabinet in the old storeroom near their classroom banged as Yuta lost his balance and they collided against the metal furniture. 

Sorry, he said, eyes darting towards the door to check if anyone heard them and Taeyong immediately realised that he was given a brief moment to consider backing out of whatever this was and stopping himself from getting too deep. It was just a silly infatuation, he reminded himself, it was just him being temporarily enchanted, it was just him momentarily engrossed in things that Yuta was but not things that he wasn’t. It wasn’t really an attraction to him as a whole person but bits of him: the air that stayed still whenever he appeared within Taeyong’s sight, the distinct way he moved his body in ways that he could probably be recognised even with just a silhouette, the way his eyes were so expressive that he could turn a contented smile into murderous rage in a moment’s glance. 

All of those and yet remain having the purest heart Taeyong has ever seen—so he stopped fighting his doubts and tugged at Yuta’s hips. 

Yuta didn’t make a sound when he came, but he left a bite scar on Taeyong’s shoulder so deep that he sometimes still felt it bleed years after high school was over.

  
  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  
  


The fifth time they talked to each other, Yuta asked Taeyong about Sei and Rinko. 

Are they your friends? 

Yes, he said, sliding the bento box he made towards Yuta. 

Like? _Friends_ kind of friends? 

Yes, Taeyong said, munching on the strawberry mochi he got from Lawsons’ that morning. 

How was it? Being friends with them? 

Taeyong didn’t get it. What do you mean, he asked. 

Yuta gobbled on his food to hide the embarrassed flush on his face. 

  
  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  
  


Taeyong had observed Yuta for a least a decade and so now he was completely certain with a scientist’s conviction about one fact: 

that Yuta, for a lot of reasons, never managed to grasp the true power of his looks. 

He knew enough in the narrow context within the objects of his passions, that was for sure, because he knew his best angle for the camera, the best wink to make his audience erupt deliriously, the best smile to charm someone into believing the shit he would say during interviews, and the best death glare to make people stay at least ten feet away before asking something from him. 

What he didn’t know—or, refused to know, Taeyong suspected—was his effect on other people when he didn’t intend it, because his reactions and his subsequent actions would always end up hurting everyone within his sphere. 

Taeyong supposed he made the conclusion with a tinge of bitterness, but he had no way to interpret the trend otherwise because things always happened in this sequence one way or another: they saw him, they got bewitched, they tried approaching him and got rejected, or they approached him and he was receptive enough to allow them in then he rejected them when he got too deep, and then he would cry his heart out because why the fuck did he ever let them touch him like that. 

The cycle happened over and over again and when Taeyong felt like he could sense Yuta’s subtle invitation, he would seek him out and let his tears fall into his palm before kissing his sorrows away. 

It was the least he could do for having exposed Yuta to the dangerously addictive powers of heartbreak. 

  
  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  
  


Sei and Rinko weren’t too into the idea of Yuta joining their little exclusive gang. 

What does he even know about being us, Sei spat, what does he know about being different. What would a privileged fucker like that want to do with us. 

I invited him, Taeyong explained through his chuckles, having correctly predicted their apprehension. He’s a nice guy, you know. He studies at home and helps out his family members in their businesses and he doesn’t like hanging out with those Soccer Jerks™. 

Oh yeah? Sei jeered. 

But are _you_ going to be ok, Rinko asked, eyes full of concern. 

Of course I’m going to be ok, Taeyong replied immediately. 

Rinko didn’t believe him. 

I didn’t tell him anything, Taeyong confessed honestly. 

  
  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  
  


One of these days you have to tell me everything, Yuta mumbled unintelligible as he started to pass out drunk on top of him. _Really_ tell me everything. 

What do you want to know. 

You can start by telling me, he said, voice strangled by intoxication, what am I to you. 

  
  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  
  


Sei was jumping up and down when Watanabe told her that she could produce her own piano instrumental mixtapes, start putting them up on Soundcloud and if she would like to, livestream her entire composing process. The purpose was, of course, to let her use her mastery in piano to diversify their musical portfolio in between the band’s official releases and to get more serious acclaim from the music industry as a whole. Their personal projects didn’t have to be music, but it just so happened that Sei was an accomplished classical pianist in her own rights and her Soundcloud might revive her passion in it and what better time to prove yourself if not after having amassed a cultishly loyal following (mostly girls) and critical awareness from experts? 

In the same vein, Rinko took some time to set up a private studio before starting a regular livestream of her baking cakes using her self-written recipes and Taeyong finally contacted those producers in LA for some collaborative sessions while also submitting some of his designs to an independent apparel store in Shibuya for some limited edition TY-designed shoes.

When asked again about Yuta—and Taeyong struggled to think of a hobby of Yuta’s that he could market as a side project other than soccer—Watanabe smiled sneakily. 

He’s not allowed a side project yet, she said. And he agreed. 

Two days later, Watanabe told them that Yuta had been casted for a role in a teen romantic movie as the senpai whom the main female character (who had the ability to predict the weather) crushed on before falling for a fellow classmate who was a neuro-divergent special student and Stereophobes was to sing for the promotional theme song. 

Watanabe couldn’t contain her happiness, but the same couldn’t be said about Yuta. 

  
  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  
  


It took some time before Yuta would stop calling Sei and Rinko by their actual names, Setsuko and Suzu, and Taeyong had never felt like an outsider until Sei and Rinko agreed to have Yuta join them because it was then when palpable tensions began to rise between Sei and Rinko with Yuta and Taeyong was inadvertently stuck in the middle of everything. 

From what he could gather, Sei and Yuta used to attend the same piano class until Yuta quitted it to spend more time practising soccer and therefore, making Yuta one of her rarest acquaintances whom she still had not struck a blood oath with to seal away her so-called darker days in her younger days as the permanently pink-wearing, pigtail-sporting girly girl. Rinko didn’t have any actual vendetta with Yuta except for that one time Yuta passed by her when his soccer captain was hitting on her in the junior high school hallway and he didn’t even take a glance at her because if he did, he would have spotted the desperate cry for help she was relaying through her eyes. 

The belligerent tension in a group of friends that would later form the much-beloved Stereophobes became such an urban legend that after being immortalised into their first single (a happy, preppy, feel-good, extremely radio-friendly punk number appropriately titled as “Your Future Friends Are Your Current Enemies” that went viral on social media as students all around Japan started using it to produce trending videos) and their eventual mini docu-series (with some watering down of, well, _certain elements_ ), it ironically will also be—

—the reason for their abrupt collapse. 

  
  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  
  


Taeyong knew at one glance that John would eventually end up in Yuta’s bed, because John was the kind of dick Yuta craved and Yuta was the kind of beautiful disaster that John had always fantasised about. They met on the same day they arrived at Los Angeles to guest at an international rock festival and hit it off immediately. Yuta was good at these kinds of short-term, intense but transiently passionate moments because for a while, Taeyong was convinced that Yuta had finally found his one and only. 

It was in the way Yuta allowed John’s eyes to study him whole; it was in the way Yuta had this magical instinct to know what John wanted; it was in the way he made himself John’s reality and fantasy at the same time. 

Then it was time for them to leave and Yuta wasn’t at all emotionally moved at the farewell but Taeyong felt like he bled a little inside. 

  
  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  
  


Watanabe had a gift of foresight so acute that she immediately could tell that Yuta and Taeyong would pose a problem for the general promotional strategy of the band. 

You two look too much alike, she said. 

NO WE DON’T! they both protested simultaneously, inciting laughter from both Sei and Rinko. 

Would you believe us now, Rinko said in that I-told-you-so tone, because it was something that she had never stopped insisting on since high school. 

I’m not going to waste my photographers’ efforts on proving me right but I’m going to give you a month to differentiate yourselves, Watanabe’s instructions were stern but effective. 

Sei and Rinko glared at the both of them as a warning. 

  
  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  
  


Rinko was the faster to warm up to Yuta, because he apologised and promised that he would be more aware of the bad behaviours of the people around him, especially the jocks of the soccer club. 

It’s ok, she said. It was over. Setsuko got him good. 

It was the first time Taeyong had ever heard Rinko used Sei’s real name.

She’ll come around one of these days, Rinko reassured him. 

Taeyong watched them walk together side by side towards the train station after soccer practise and wondered if they were all in an alternate reality where they could love people of the opposite gender, Yuta and Rinko could possibly be together. 

  
  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  
  


They went to New York because John was introducing them with a rapper from Manhattan who would love to have them featured in his new single and Yuta got immediately besotted by the illogically boyish Mark. Yuta refused to touch Mark that way, but it didn’t stop him from sending him lovelorn looks like he wanted nothing else but to be reborn as Mark’s pet. It was, if Taeyong was honest with himself, quite nauseating. 

If Yuta had spent most of his Los Angeles trip either fucking John or trying to get John to fuck him or thinking about trying to get John to fuck him; this New York trip was almost like a musical pilgrimage. By the time the week-long trip was over, he had kept a box of things Mark gave to him including some books about iconic places around the world that he used to use as references in his songs, books about world literature and the beauty of classical poems, some CDs of Mark’s self-made mixtape from before he blew up in the rap scene, and last but not least some handwritten letters Mark had written to him to record his mental journey after being told that he could finally be collaborating with the band from Japan that he loved. 

Everything about Mark was like Yuta’s exercise in chastity—something Taeyong knew he had in him but had never seen in action. 

It was weird as hell, to say the least. 

  
  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  


  
  


You have to give her time, Rinko said about Sei. She suffered more than I did. 

Taeyong thought that it was unreasonable for Sei to pile all the men problems she had had on Yuta alone, but he wasn’t about to judge. 

  
  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  
  


As he waits for the flight to start, Taeyong thinks of the time when he had first arrived in Japan at the age of 16 and starting second year in high school. It wasn’t simple back then for him, even if he now thinks that it should be, because his Japanese was at best moderately functional (and definitely not good enough to solve complex algebra, for example) and despite his sister repeatedly telling him that everything would be alright as long as he graduated from high school, it never really helped to soothe his anxiety. 

Don’t worry about anything, his sister said, you can start over because nobody here knows you. 

He still remembers his first day vividly: the way he took a detour to the Shinjuku Park from his home in Shin-Okubo in case the cherry blossoms decided to fall, the way he got distracted by a lost puppy on the way to school (he didn’t manage to see the puppy after school that day and to this day he still wonders what could have happened to it), the way he bumped into a fellow student then felt like time stopped for him and the cherry blossoms suddenly fell when the student turned around to apologise and Taeyong knew immediately that his world was about to change. 

He never told anyone that because nobody needs to know that his mind works in such romantic ways but in retrospect, he probably should have at least told Yuta. 

Maybe then he would have realised that they weren’t meant to be trapped in a game where Yuta set all the rules so that Taeyong wouldn’t lose. 

Because if you never lose a game, Taeyong realises, you’ll never have to exit. 

  
  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  
  


Taeyong’s decision to get a semi-permanent rose tattoo beside his right eye got an instant approval from Watanabe, along with Yuta’s various piercings and an eyebrow slit plus an undercut under his usually spiked up blonde locks. 

Whenever he looked back at this specific moment in time, Taeyong felt like he should have known about the poetic significance in him getting a rose near his eye and Yuta letting various parts of his body be pierced because roses, after all, have thorns.

  
  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  
  


Yuta was probably expecting a short, conclusive answer from Taeyong about what Yuta was to him, but to Taeyong, Yuta was never a brief, succinct presence in his life. 

Taeyong gave the question so much weight because it must had been tearing Yuta so much at the seams that he could only ask with the alcohol influencing him and he decided that things would have been easier if Yuta was a little more careful in his steps and didn’t bump into Taeyong on his first day in school, didn’t turn back and let Taeyong see the face of the most beautiful boy in the world, didn’t show up behind the gym after Taeyong got his face busted by some of the guys from the basketball club who was trying to hit on Rinko while Sei was away, didn’t ask to eat with him during recess, didn’t agree to being introduced to his small exclusive circle of lesbian friends, didn’t make efforts into actually be accepted by the said friends, didn’t agree on a whim to make a band and followed through with it while slowly abandoning his soccer aspirations, didn’t start kissing him on the rooftop and didn’t start wanting to do it with him without saying explicitly that he was into boys as much as Taeyong did, didn’t start promising the future for him, didn’t start being in the said future with him only for them to drift apart in the cruelest turn of events—

—and now, didn’t start demanding for a reconciliation when the crack between them could only be mended by nothing but turning back time. 

  
  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  
  


Sei and Yuta ended up settling things the old way: by brawling their way into friendship at the rooftop. Yuta didn’t think they needed to resort to violence if only Sei would trust his words but like a wounded tiger, she would only be satisfied if she could manage to draw blood. So she punched him and he didn’t retaliate and she asked if he would punch her back and he said he wouldn’t and he wouldn’t punch back not because Sei was a girl but because Sei needed to express her rage and if she wanted to, she could have him as her outlet and they could spar regularly. 

The words clearly took Sei by surprise, because she dropped her balled fist and threw a towel towards Yuta’s direction then turning away, but not before telling him that she had band practice later that Taeyong usually would go to observe and he could come along. 

Taeyong would never forget the way Yuta’s lips curved up in contentment and the way the sunset rays illuminated his bloodied face when he finally asked: 

I did well, didn’t I? 

Yes, Taeyong answered, not sure if he fully comprehended the reason why Yuta was risking everything to gain friendship from the two highly notorious pariahs of the school. 

Hey, Yuta asked. 

Yes? 

Am I now cool enough for you? 

What are you talking about—

Taeyong stopped his words because Yuta turned his head to look at him and an epiphany struck him like a sudden, uninvited thunder. 

—Yes. You were really very cool. 

At that moment, Taeyong felt like he knew what it would mean to feel like a whole person and for the first time in his life, found a _purpose_. 

  
  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  
  


Eventually Yuta got accustomed enough to his newfound role as the one to expand the industrial reach of the band and to a large extent, the label, because he really was the only one suitable for it. Sei, for really complicated reasons (one of them being that she was too tomboyish for the entertainment industry and would likely be subjected to harmful typecasts) would prefer to keep developing her piano livestreams as they got traction for not just her compositions but also her song covers, Rinko had always rather not attract too much attention to herself (which was the primary reason why she had chosen the drums) and Taeyong, well. 

Watanabe said that it wasn’t impossible to have Taeyong as an active entertainer but given the volatile political state of the country with the rise of right wing nationalism, it was better that Taeyong branch out into production instead. 

A week before Taeyong was scheduled to take his flight, Rinko asked Taeyong to ponder along about what exactly was the reason for their irreparable dissolution: was it when Sei and Rinko told the band and the label that they wanted to start building a life together in some ways; or was it before that, when Yuta’s second solo album outsold the band’s entire discography; was it when Yuta announced that he had gathered some producers who used to work with the Miracle Producer to write some songs he could use in his solo debut; was it when Sei decided to formalise her Soundcloud releases into physical CDs; was it when Rinko wanted to start writing recipe books; was it when Yuta started getting recklessly involved with men he didn’t even fancy; was it when Taeyong started reconnecting again with his childhood friend Doyoung and drifted further more from Yuta; was it—

Taeyong laughed a little, because Rinko had been too naive. 

If I were to be honest, he said, it was back in high school right before graduation ceremony when he had pledged the sky for me and I said I couldn’t accept it. 

Rinko’s eyes were wide with shock. 

It’s true, Taeyong finally admitted. It was me. 

I did that to him. 

  
  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  
  


Taeyong should have known the answer by now, because he should have taken the hint when they were both bloodied up on the evening they first talked, when their first kiss ended with Yuta biting him so hard that he broke his lower lip, when all their intimate times together left scars all over his shoulder; because their bodies had been bleeding when their hearts couldn’t. 

_You’re my blood_ , he said into Yuta’s ear. 

He didn’t even know what that meant—he just had a feeling that it was the answer to everything. 

  
  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  
  


Taeyong supposed that things should have been simple, should have been wonderful, should have been magical—because he couldn’t explain otherwise. 

He couldn’t explain how their first meeting felt like a work of destiny, how their didn’t need an introduction to start an official conversation with each other, how Yuta just slowly slipped into his life and became a part of him, how they just pulled each other for hungry kisses and Taeyong didn’t feel like anything was unnatural, how they just knew that their bodies would need each other that way, how they were like two stars who collided and then before they could shine together, burst into billions of particles. 

He had adored the little things about Yuta on that day: the wind sweeping his hair across his face, the half-tucked shirt and the two open buttons below his neck, the sleeves above his elbows, the left sock that was folded inside his shoe, the evening sky behind them and the nervous, unassuming grin as he poured his entire heart and soul to him. 

Taeyong couldn’t bring himself to tell him the truth, so he lied. 

  
  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  
  


He was fortunate that this would be the only time he would be doing it, because the jealousy was rapidly eating him from the inside. 

Yuta was beautiful, so beautiful when he lied on his back and arched his back out to receive him and his hips were rocking back and forth and he thrusted in slow, seeking out for his spot. His neck was beautiful when he threw his head back as he enjoyed the pain that he had loved so much, because this time the pain was both in his body and in his heart. His voice was so beautiful when he moaned in pleasure and in agony, because he had finally allowed himself to be free, he had finally decided to take everything inside him, he had finally agreed that he had been hurting for too long for no reason and now he wanted to detonate, to erupt in flames, to blow himself up because he wanted to be reborn, reincarnate and reclaim himself. 

But his intention and desires didn’t mean anything to Taeyong, because he was seeing what all his lovers were looking at when they were fucking him, when they were worshipping his body, when they had the privilege of giving him such insurmountable pleasure, so he let himself have this moment to be consumed by envy to prove to Yuta that they could have had it all but they didn’t, and this would the moment they could finally say they _did_ almost have it all. 

He almost didn’t want Yuta to come because he didn’t want their struggles to end, didn’t want their bond to break, didn’t want their story to stop—but he did anyway. 

Because at the end of the day, Yuta was Yuta and he would do whatever the fuck he wanted—Taeyong had been too presumptuous when he had thought that he could hold him back even a little. 

  
  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  
  


The inconvenient truth was that Taeyong was never a whole person when Yuta had found him and that was the reason why they could never be whole together no matter what. 

Not in the way Yuta had wanted to. 

Meeting you never managed to fix me back together, Taeyong confessed and he took a moment of reprieve to remember all the moments in his life that had chipped away his wings that he had never shared with Yuta: the reason why he had to moved from Korea to Japan, the reason why befriending Sei and Rinko gave the biggest social security he had ever felt in his life, the reason why he would never, ever, admit out loud that he loved boys—one boy in particular. 

Someday, he said. I will tell you everything. 

  
  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  
  


When Taeyong finally came and collapsed next to Yuta, he thought that he had finally experienced it all. There was love, there was hate, and only a few precious people in this world could boast about having experienced a perfect combination of both. 

But Yuta took his hand and intertwined their fingers, because after all this while, after all the years they spent walking on the fine line that had been binding their affection and resentment in an imaginary blood oath, after all the lovers that Yuta had invited to this room to spend his emotional and physical energy with, after all the exception they grant to each other in the name of spite—

—Taeyong was still the only one Yuta would pledge the sky for. 

  
  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  
  


The _other_ inconvenient truth that Taeyong had refused to acknowledge was that they were all broken anyway. Sei had been broken by the pressure to conform to the society’s narrow definition of femininity. Rinko had been broken by the pressure to conform to the society’s obscure definition of masculinity. Yuta had been broken by the reality that his knees had been broken in a sacrifice he made in his devotion to his favourite sports. 

That is why Stereophobes were made, Yuta reminded him, because we were all broken kids who came to make broken music together. 

And you, his words gradually splintered by his tears, I know what broke you. 

Taeyong closed his eyes, waiting for the sun to fall. 

You were broken by loneliness. 

  
  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  
  


I’m leaving, Taeyong said, clasping their hands together. 

Where to. 

For how long? 

  
  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  
  


Yuta was right, but it didn’t matter. 

I’m sorry, he said, over and over again. 

He knew at once that he would be doomed to have this moment haunt him forever because it was the moment he could have had the love of his life and he pushed it away. 

  
  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  
  


For good. 

  
  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  
  


_Hey Taeyong, you once told me that I was your blood._

  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  
  


When things used to be simple, Taeyong would daydream about pledging the universe for Yuta. 

You shine so bright, he would say, you’re almost like a supernova. 

You will be so warm and lovely and the entire world will fall for you, depend on you, lean on you like I did. You will be so passionate and spirited that everyone will stop to look at you, to admire you, to envy you. You will be so beautiful that you hurt the heart of all your lovers just by being with them. 

Yuta would believe him because Taeyong would mean every single word he would say. 

He would, Taeyong was sure of it. 

  
  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  
  


_However, blood wouldn’t fracture like we did, wouldn’t rupture like we did, wouldn’t bruise like we did._

  
  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  
  


Taeyong’s tears don't fall until the pilot announces that they have landed in Los Angeles and it finally sinks in that it’s over. 

Everything is over before it ever gets a chance to begin. 

  
  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  
  


_But if you want me to run through your body so that your heart could beat again, all you need to do is to say it._

  
  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  
  


After knowing that their farewell was imminent, Yuta couldn’t stop crying, couldn’t stop apologising and Taeyong couldn’t bring himself to say that it was all his fault. 

But he knew all was not lost because he knew they could still find a way to find comfort in each other’s brokenness, to find a time in the future to exchange pledges again, and despite him trying his hardest to deny it, there were indeed moments back in time when they were whole while being together. 

And so Taeyong made a promise to him as he bit into his palm, a vow drenched in blood—

  
  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  
  


_All you really need to do is to say it—_

  
  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  
  


One day, he swears—

  
  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  
  


— _and_ _tell me that together, we could beat as one._

  
  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  
  


—we’ll be whole again. 

  
  
  
  
  


*

**Author's Note:**

> \- thank you for reading, stay safe and stay healthy!


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